


Make cookies, not war

by weekendgothgirl



Series: Micromarvel [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Death, Cookies, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Memories, Other, Reflection, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, parental relationship, secret baker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 14:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekendgothgirl/pseuds/weekendgothgirl
Summary: Tony reflects on his Mom and why he likes to bake cookies.





	Make cookies, not war

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opposablethumbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/gifts).



> Firstly, huge thanks to opposablethumbs for micromarvel and it's prompts (come and join us, there's cookies!) and the hand holding <3
> 
> Secondly thanks for the art at the end of the fic, opposablethumbs <3

Tony checks the camera throughout the tower, ensuring everyone is out or nowhere near the kitchen. He tells Friday to keep an eye on everyone before sneaking out of his workshop and heading for the elevator. He can barely stay still as he rides it, he's been waiting days for an opportunity like this. Stepping out,, he cautiously checks the corridor, just in case. Hawk guy almost caught him a couple of times and he's been paranoid since then. He assumes his calmest face before sneaking through the living space and into the kitchen.

Before he starts, he washes his hands thoroughly. JARVIS had always insisted on that. The water and motions soothe him as he does so, as do the memories of the old butler. He dries his hands before pulling out all of the equipment and ingredients needed. Sighing, he thinks about how sometimes he wishes the group knew so he didn't have to sneak around. Then again, when your life is the centre-spread of Time Magazine, it’s nice to have something that's just yours. In the whole world, only two people know about his habit. Pepper of course, even before they were together, she was the world's greatest PA (and often PD). She understood his need to bake more than he thought she would. Even after the break up, she kept his secret, going so far as to provide interesting ingredients from time to time. Happy found out too, by accident more than design. He came for a midnight snack, and found Tony baking in his boxers. He didn't understand like Pep, but he never questioned it.

Tony smiles as he mixes the wet and dry ingredients together; thinking of his mother. He remembers the way the kitchen smelled and how she'd wear an apron over her expensive clothes. She never cared about mess, though, especially when he joined her. These memories are bittersweet, they bring almost as much pain with them as happiness.  
It used to be too painful to think about his parents, especially her, until after Afghanistan. Then with everything that happened with Obie, he'd needed something to hold on to. Getting wasted was easiest, and it was during one of his heaviest sessions that he decided to ‘take back cookies’. He hadn't touched them since his mom died, let alone bake, but he'd always enjoyed it. He always felt calmer and more at peace as he went through the motions. They’d burned, unsurprisingly, yet somehow still tasted sweet. Laying his cookie-dough clumps on the baking trays, he's glad he made the choice he did. It’s a strange thing to say that cookies saved your life, so he likes to give the credit to his mom.

Humming one of her favourite songs, he slides the trays into the oven and tidies up. He’d rather sing than hum, the aria has such beautiful lyrics, but he doesn't want anyone to hear. When his song ends, he makes do with tapping at his phone and against his thigh instead. This part of the process always frustrates him. As a kid he would pout at his mom and sigh, between casting betrayed glances at the oven. As he glowers at the glass, he realises not everything has changed

Eventually it's time and he pulls them out, turning to lay them down on the counter. He smiles down at the perfectly golden cookies steaming gently on their trays. This was always the best and worst part: seeing and smelling the delicious results but not being able to touch them. After letting them rest for a few minutes, he lifts them off the trays and onto a plate.

He gives them a few more minutes to firm up, then takes a cookie and bites into it. They're the best he’s made to date, but not as good as mom’s used to be. Still, cookies. He picks another up as he nibbles at the first, and heads for the elevator and his workshop. If nothing else, he scratched his itch and the team will enjoy his efforts, even if they don't know where the cookies come from.

 

 


End file.
